


Winter's Comfort

by round_robin



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bathing/Washing, Bottom Jaskier | Dandelion, Butt Plugs, Cock Warming, Daddy Kink, Double Penetration, Free Use, Free Use Jaskier, Hand Feeding, Kaer Morhen, M/M, Massage, Multi, Oral Sex, Rimming, Sub Jaskier | Dandelion, Winter At Kaer Morhen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:40:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26675290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/round_robin/pseuds/round_robin
Summary: By the time they got to the base of the mountain, Vesemir expected Jaskier to finally leave. He had his fun following and bothering a Witcher for a few days, surely he got what he wanted from that? But no, Jaskier continued after him.Jaskier was still there when they got to the gates of Kaer Morhen. But now, he stopped, biting his lip, eyes hesitant. “Finally having second thoughts?” Truth be told, Vesemir had gotten used to his presence. The soft human heart gently working away next to him was soothing at night, and the smell of arousal coming off Jaskier hadn't faded, the thick cloud of lust enveloping Vesemir's every waking moment. It was nice to be desired again, especially by someone so fine.
Relationships: Aiden/Jaskier | Dandelion/Lambert, Aiden/Lambert (The Witcher), Eskel/Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion/Lambert, Jaskier | Dandelion/Vesemir
Comments: 50
Kudos: 573
Collections: Blame Kate For This Fic, Polyamorous Relationships For the Win





	Winter's Comfort

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is Kate's fault.
> 
> I guess it can technically be seen as a 5+1, but that wasn't the plan. Some snippets into the life of Jaskier, the kept bard of Kaer Morhen.

1.

Cart filled with supplies for the coming winter (still far off, but near enough to start preparing) Vesemir headed home. Ignoring the clearly marked road, he turned onto an overgrown path just big enough for the cart; a path a little too dangerous for humans to take, but perfectly sensible for a Witcher. It would save him half a day, and he might even get some useful potion ingredients out of whatever monsters he found lurking.

A shrill scream startled Vesemir almost as much as it startled the horse. That was no beast or monster, but a human throat crying out in terror. Humans didn't take this road, too dangerous... unless they were stupid. Silver sword already in hand, Vesemir tied off the horse and followed the sound. He barely got two steps away when a young man, blue eyes wide with fear, a lute banging tunelessly against his chest, ran from between a row of bushes.

“Help! For fuck's sake help!”

Vesemir readied himself and slipped into a fighting stance, the foolish human taking cover behind him.

Turned out to be two wargs and a pack of wolves. Not even a challenge. The young man managed to climb a tree and continued to shiver and shake as Vesemir easily dispatched them. He let the human linger in the tree for a moment as he harvested some useful ingredients. Any other day, he'd stop to skin a few and take the pelts home for tanning, but he was in a hurry, and he still had that crazy human to deal with.

Sliding his trophy knife away, Vesemir walked over to the tree. “You can come down now.”

His eyes squeezed shut in his terror, one popped open—startlingly, beautifully blue—and he took in the scene. Thankfully, he didn't ask any stupid questions like “Are you sure?” or “What if you missed one?” Shifting his lute to a better position, he climbed down the tree, landing on the forest floor with a soft thump.

Brushing the dirt and pieces of tree from his clothes, he held out a shaking hand. “Thank you, sir, truly. I was almost a dead man there.”

“Hmm.” Wolves and wargs were nothing to a Witcher, but yes, they would've torn this man apart. Barely a man, Vesemir noticed now that he had a good look at him. Those enchanting eyes were just the beginning of it, soft petal pink lips and a delicate jaw line, creamy skin without a single scar. If he were a few decades younger... “Stick to the main roads. Safer there.”

Vesemir turned to collect the wagon and continue on, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him. He was covered in blood and no small amount of unpleasantness, and yet this young man reached out regardless? “Please. Allow me to thank you. My name is Jaskier, I'm a... well, I'm trying to be a traveling bard. Thought I might see the world, get some ballad ideas. The muse of life.”

Vesemir grunted again. “Was almost the muse of death.” The hand was still on his arm. He turned around and took another good look at this Jaskier.

A little foppish, clothes too fancy for traveling, some of the delicate silk already ripped and hastily repaired with clumsy stitching. But the way his doublet was cut, downward lines slimming him, making him look small, helpless. Vesemir kept coming back to those eyes, so bright and hopeful. He must be young then, _too young for you_ , Vesemir thought.

“It was no trouble,” he said, and he really meant it. Wolves were nothing to a Witcher.

“All the same, I'd like to show my gratitude.” Jaskier's fingers tightened on his shoulder for a second. “What's you name? Please.”

“Vesemir.”

“Well, Vesemir...” A new light entered those impossible eyes, the corners of his beautiful lips twitching up a little. He shrugged the lute from his shoulder and slid his hand down to grip Vesemir's bicep, feeling the hard muscle there. The lute hit the ground seconds before Jaskier dropped to his knees. Dark eyelashes fluttered, and his lips parted. “I don't have any coin to pay you, and I know Witchers don't work for free.” He reached out and rested long fingers over the ties of Vesemir's breeches, arching an eyebrow.

It took Vesemir longer to react than he'd like, but he did step away, watching Jaskier's smile fall a bit. “Witchers don't take payment like _that_.” None of his students did, at least, and if he ever found out about anything like this, he'd tan their hides all winter long.

“Please.” Jaskier moved forward on his knees. “There must be something.”

Eyes on beautiful full lips, Vesemir shook his head. “There's nothing. Go, don't stray down any more dangerous roads.” He turned away from the bard and headed back towards the cart.

He heard a shuffle behind him and almost drew a blade, but the familiar smell of human wafted around him. No longer tinged with fear, just salty sweat and lavender, and the deep musk of arousal, floated on the air, curling around Vesemir. He clenched his fist, willing his body to cooperate as his cock stirred to life. “What now?” he growled, turning and glaring at the bard, this suicidal human.

Lute in his hands, Jaskier started strumming a little. “I'll figure out how to pay you back, just give me a few days.” But the look in his eye said that Jaskier clearly intended to pay with the method he already offered, probably believing himself attractive enough to wear Vesemir down. Problem was... he might be right about that.

Turning away, Vesemir led the cart horse down the path again. “In a few days, I will be up a mountain, in a dreary, drafty castle.”

“I love castles!” Jaskier chirped, keeping pace easily. Damn stamina of youth. “Dreary ruins, even better. They're so full of songs and stories.” He took a deep breath, fingers dancing over the strings of his lute as the errant plucking turned into an actual tune. “And you, dear Witcher, already smell of a good song. Destiny, heroics—”

“I didn't say ruin,” Vesemir growled. It was true, but only he was allowed to call Kaer Morhen a ruin, it was his home, one he'd like to return to _alone_.

Jaskier followed him until he made camp. Not even the darkest glare from Vesemir scared him away. He babbled too, constantly. Vesemir wondered why they hadn't come across anything more dangerous than a warg and started to think maybe the monsters didn't want to deal with the chatter either. Eh, Vesemir could lose him at the base of the mountain. The bard was nice to look at, at least. When he shed his doublet for the night, Vesemir's suspicions were confirmed—a wide chest, good muscles without much definition, but still strong, a thick carpet of dark chest hair curling above his collar, contrasting against pale skin—and he had to pull his eyes away, stare at the fire. But the scent of lust pouring from Jaskier, musky and rich, only got more intense.

By the time they got to the base of the mountain, he expected Jaskier to finally leave. He had his fun following and bothering a Witcher for a few days, surely he got what he wanted from that? But no, Jaskier continued after him. As the climb got rough, the nights too cold, he followed. When Vesemir heard the young man—practically a boy—shivering and shaking under the thin blanket he pulled from his pack, he sighed and threw the horse blanket on top of him. The shivering stopped and Vesemir was finally able to sleep.

Jaskier was still there when they got to the gates of Kaer Morhen. But now, he stopped, biting his lip, eyes hesitant. “Finally having second thoughts?” Truth be told, Vesemir had gotten used to his presence. The soft human heart gently working away next to him was soothing at night, and the smell of arousal coming off Jaskier hadn't faded, the thick cloud of lust enveloping Vesemir's every waking moment. It was nice to be desired again, especially by someone so fine.

“No,” he said. “I would still like to thank you. Go on my knees for you and make you feel good.” It was the first time he'd described what he wanted to do—no one around to possible over hear, no danger—and the blunt statement made Vesemir's breath hitch. His cock had been a little hard since the moment he set eyes on the beautiful lad, and this declaration did not help matters. “But I'm not the sort who simply invites myself into someone's home. I'll leave you be, if that's what you truly wish.”

Vesemir snorted, shaking his head. “You'd never make it back down the mountain by yourself. Inside. Help me put the supplies away.” The spring back in his step, smile on his lips, Jaskier followed Vesemir into the keep.

That night, as they ate dinner, Vesemir finally let Jaskier close. He let the bard brush a hand up his arm, feeling strong muscles and cooing at his handsome, virile Witcher—yes, Vesemir noticed that, _Jaskier's Witcher_... He finally let himself give in, kissing those lips sweet with wine, and taking Jaskier up to bed with him.

Well, it looked like the keep had a bard now. Vesemir wondered how the boys would like him.

2.

A warm tongue licked between his cheeks and Jaskier's legs fell open automatically. The nest of blankets and pillows around him had shifted in the night, but his bed was no less comfortable. Jaskier had the best bed in the keep, the best room. Warm and cozy in winter, open and breezy during the summer. Vesemir and the other Wolves spared no expense keeping him happy and loved, so he could do what he enjoyed most: taking care of them.

He moaned and tilted his hips to get more, feeling the familiar scratch of stubble against his sensitive cheeks. “Good morning, Lambert,” he purred.

A strong hand pushed between his back and the bed, easily flipping Jaskier over onto his stomach, that tongue continuing its work, licking him from sac to hole. “Good morning,” Lambert mumbled into spit slick skin.

Jaskier tilted his hips for better access, but didn't do much else. Lambert like to take his pleasure from Jaskier's body, and he so enjoyed giving it over to him. After another few licks and a firm suck on his rim, Lambert blanketed across his back, cock resting against the curve of his ass for a moment. Large hands rubbed smooth salve on the inside of his thighs and Lambert lay on top of him again, this time, his cock slid between Jaskier's thighs, pumping away, working himself up before the real fun of the morning began.

Lambert planted his hands by Jaskier's shoulders, his knees on the outside of his legs, pinning him to the bed. That heavy body, so strong, each muscle like coiled steel, pushed against him and Jaskier couldn't help but moan. “Fuck,” Lambert hissed into his ear, biting a bruise into his neck, the first love bite of the day. “I'm close. The things you do to me, it's like I'm a teenager again. I just wanna come all over you.”

“I know you do, dear. Give it to me.”

Lambert's heat disappeared from his back as he got up on his knees, stroking himself as he stared down at Jaskier's perfect ass. “Can't wait to open you up for the day, going to make you feel so good.” His strokes quickened and Lambert fought to keep his eyes open. He loved watching his spend shoot across Jaskier's back, painting him with his scent. By the end of the day, Jaskier would smell like them all, but Lambert always got in first.

After so many years, so many winters in Jaskier's bed, Lambert knew how to tilt his hips to arc his shot and make sure it covered him from the top of his spine down to his ass. The first spurt landed along the long column of his back, the second and third, he used to paint those perfect globes. Lambert licked his lips, fuck how he wanted to run his tongue all over Jaskier, tasting his skin under the thick flavor of his own spend. Maybe later...

At first, he used the salve he brought with him, Lambert didn't want to pause before rutting against Jaskier, but now that his first urges of the day had been satisfied, he took a moment to consider the side table by Jaskier's bed. Different vials of oil or pots of salve covered the top of the table, and there were a few more in the drawer. They kept Jaskier's room well stocked, spoiling their little song bird rotten so he was always ready for them.

He selected one of his favorites—a simple oil that was almost odorless, so there was nothing to distract from his own scent absolutely covering Jaskier. Lambert opened the drawer as well, retrieving the small plug in there, setting it aside for later. There was a sparkle in Jaskier's eyes as he saw the toy, he wiggled his hips and earned himself a firm slap, not too hard, but a full palm across both cheeks, sparking the desire deep in his belly and making his still hard cock twitch.

Two slick fingers pushed inside and Jaskier moaned. He so wanted to tilt his hips, beg for more, but Lambert liked to be in control, to make Jaskier take what he was given and no more. Jaskier loved it, being used for their pleasure, nothing more than a vessel to receive their seed, he'd let them fill him up until he was dripping with it and still beg for more. In truth, he could have whatever he wanted from any of his Wolves—he did most days, anything his heart desired and they'd bring it to him on their knees—but all he wanted was to make them happy, and Lambert was happy grunting and rutting against him, taking his pleasure from Jaskier's body.

Lambert pushed a third finger in and crooked them, making Jaskier keen when they brushed his prostate. “I love the noises you make, song bird. Love how you sing for me.” He pulled Jaskier up onto his knees, then steadied his cock with one hand, lining up the head with his hole. Jaskier moaned so pretty as Lambert pressed in, one smooth slide until his thighs were flush with Jaskier's ass. “Oh, yeah, so warm, so _mine_.”

He gave a few easy thrusts to start, letting Jaskier get used to the fullness until Jaskier started thrusting back, breath coming in sharp little pants. A heavy hand slapped against his flank. “You love to take it from me, don't you?”

“You know I do,” Jaskier purred.

Lambert let him go for a little longer, enjoying the slap of Jaskier's plush backside against him, then wrapped his hand around Jaskier's throat, hauling him up. Back pressed against Lambert's chest, teeth latched onto the nape of his neck, sucking more love bites into his skin. The hold at his throat was loose, more a reminder of the man behind him than trying to cut off his air, though that was enjoyable from time to time... not usually first thing in the morning though. They fell into an easy rhythm and Lambert wrapped his other arm around Jaskier's chest, holding them flush together. The come streaked across his back made them both sticky and wonderfully fragrant, Jaskier loved smelling like his Wolves.

Since it was his second round of the morning, Lambert's orgasm took a little longer to build. When his hips started stuttering, unable to keep their perfect rhythm, he groped for Jaskier's cock, pulling him off as Lambert shouted into the back of his shoulder, filling Jaskier for the first time today. Lambert thrust until he was too sensitive, too shaky to go on, but he so wanted to give Jaskier all he had.

Lowering them back on the bed, Jaskier stayed very still as Lambert reached for the plug, coating it in oil then pressing it to his hole. “Nice and full,” he whispered.

“Mmm, yes.” Jaskier wiggled, sighing at the lovely feeling inside him. The toy was rather small, just there for stretching, making sure he was ready for whoever might need him later. “Thank you, Lambert.”

“You're welcome.” Lambert stood up and retrieved a wet cloth from Jaskier's wash basin, wiping the come from his chest, then Jaskier's back before climbing back on the bed. Dipping down, Lambert ran his nose through Jaskier's hair, then kissed softly at his temple. “I'll see you for dinner, song bird, have a good day.”

“Thank you, my love.” Jaskier relaxed back into his pillows, closing his eyes. He heard Lambert's footsteps retreat, and his door close.

3.

A few hours later, Jaskier rose from sleep to the smell of fresh baked bread. “Daddy?” he mumbled into his pillows.

“Yes, my sweet. Breakfast time.” Vesemir sat down at the small table across the room and set down the tray. Pulling off the cover and wafting more of the delicious smells towards the bed.

Jaskier rose and walked over, stopping between Vesemir's spread legs. “It smells delicious.” Along with fresh bread and creamy butter, there was a bowl of oatmeal sprinkled with cinnamon, and some sliced fruit, probably the last of the season given the chill in the air. Vesemir had dried and stored most of their fruit, but he saved the last of the fresh apples for Jaskier. So considerate.

Vesemir twirled his finger in the air and Jaskier obediently turned, bending at the waist. Vesemir toyed with the end of the plug for a moment, but didn't remove it. “Did Lambert leave something inside?”

“Yes, he did. Don't wanna get you all dirty, Daddy...”

“I'll be fine. You need to eat.” There was another tin of slick sitting next to the bread on the tray. Jaskier's room was fully stocked, but Vesemir didn't want to send him back to the bed to fetch anything, he knew that if his sweet boy got anywhere near the bed, those temping eyes would soon draw Vesemir in, and he needed his breakfast.

Opening his laces, Vesemir slicked his cock then pulled the plug from Jaskier's ass. He ignored the little moan and got him in place before too much dripped out of him. “Damn Lambert,” he grumbled as Jaskier got fully seated, keeping his cock nice and warm. “Still have some spare clothes in here for me, my sweet?”

“Of course, D-daddy.” Jaskier's shivery voice always brought a smile to Vesemir's face, he wasn't even paying attention as Jaskier flapped a hand towards his wardrobe on the other side of the room. Jaskier didn't wear much in the way of clothing, not in his room at least (it was the warmest place in the castle for this reason, nothing to keep their love from wandering around gloriously naked) but they so loved to spoil him. Jaskier had several heavy furs to wear around, thick cloaks, breeches that laced up the back so he could offer himself in the dining hall if he wished. And mixed in with all his fine things were several drab changes of clothes, mostly Vesemir's. The boys had no problem walking the halls with their cocks out if they ripped or stained their clothing in Jaskier's room.

“I'll get some fresh clothes before I leave, but first, you have to eat.” Widening his feet so Jaskier could sit on his lap, Vesemir wrapped one arm around his stomach, keeping him steady, and offered a piece of buttered bread with the other. “Open wide.”

Speared on Vesemir's cock, keeping him warm and hard, ready to take Jaskier whenever he liked, he ate the offered food. First the bread, still fresh from the baking oven downstairs. The butter soft and melty, smeared against his lips and Vesemir licked it away before continuing. Next, the oatmeal. Jaskier opened his mouth for the spoon and made sure to lick away every trace, sometimes chasing Vesemir's fingers with his tongue.

“Ah, ah,” Vesemir tutted. “Later. When you've finished.” His hand drifted down over Jaskier's belly, pressing down where he could just barely feel his cock. Jaskier groaned, said cock shifting inside of him, his own prick desperately hard. “Three more bites.”

He ate five, them Vesemir started feeding him the apple slices, touching each piece of fruit to his lips, spreading the juice before laying it on his tongue. The tart apple taste exploded across his tongue, the sharp crunch waking Jaskier up from his morning nap. He finished the apple and the bread, and most of the oatmeal was gone. Vesemir pressed his stomach again, now satisfied at the soft bulge there. “Had enough?” he asked.

Jaskier licked his lips, nodding. “Yes Daddy, thank you.”

“Alright.” Pushing the breakfast tray aside, Vesemir turned them towards the table, allowing Jaskier to brace his hands on the top of it. Using the table for leverage, Jaskier started to ride, pushing himself up and down on his Daddy's cock, seed spilling from him. Vesemir's hands were light on his hips, guiding more than anything as Jaskier worked up a sweat. The fire crackled merrily near by and Jaskier clenched down, trying to make it good for Vesemir.

A hand stroked up his back and lips brushed the base of his neck. “Take what you like, my sweet.”

Jaskier did just that, relishing the fat cock as it moved inside him. With both his hands braced on the table top, he couldn't touch himself and started to whine a little. “Daddy, please, touch me.”

“Hmm...” Vesemir lay his hand on the inside of Jaskier's thigh, petting so close to where he wanted it. “Is that really what you want? Wouldn't you rather just writhe on my cock all morning? Making me fill you up until you ache with it?” He was only teasing, and Jaskier knew that, he just whined so prettily, Vesemir couldn't help himself.

Kissing between Jaskier's shoulder blades, he let his hand wrap around that straining cock. The reaction was almost instant. His back arched, thighs quaking. Vesemir barely had to stroke him and Jaskier came, coming so hard, some landed on the table top. He leaned back into Vesemir like his strings had been cut, sighing happily.

Wrapping his arms around Jaskier's loose limbed body, Vesemir laid him flat on the table and snapped into him, thrusting with abandon as Jaskier melted into a contented puddle on the old wood. “Yes, Daddy, yes... fill me up,” he mumbled.

The tips of Vesemir's fingers dug into the strong muscle of Jaskier's ass and he spilled, adding to what was already inside Jaskier. He picked up the plug and carefully pulled out, replacing the toy. But enough of Lambert's seed had escaped during breakfast and Vesemir shook his head. Not at his sweet little bard, at his unruly pup who liked to remind him he got in first.

Picking Jaskier up, Vesemir returned him to the bed, tucking him in with the pillows and soft furs. He grabbed a cloth from the wash basin and cleaned most of Lambert's spend from Jaskier's thighs. “Thank you, Daddy,” Jaskier whispered, his eyes half closed and hazy.

“No trouble.” He changed into a fresh set of clothes and kissed Jaskier goodbye. “Let me know if you come downstairs. I'll be in the library. You can keep me warm again if you like.”

4.

Eskel arrived home a few days before, hugging and snuggling Jaskier at dinner, but he had yet to visit Jaskier's room. He came in after lunch, a beautiful dark blue cloth thrown over his arm. “I have something for you.”

Eskel always brought him presents in winter—things he made, items he saw in shops and thought Jaskier would like, other gifts from his year on The Path—and Jaskier had a whole shelf of trinkets from him. Last season, Eskel brought him a pair of fine silk stockings and Jaskier let him roll them up his legs before Eskel fucked him deep and hard. Today's present was also made of silk.

He unfolded the garment from over his arm and Jaskier's eyes lit up. “It's lovely.” The silken robe was so soft to the touch, the color much darker than his eyes, but the blue would still bring them out, make them sparkle. They were one of his finer features and Jaskier loved when his Wolves complimented them. He turned around and let Eskel slide the thin robe onto him, the silk whispering against his skin. He leaned back and melted against that firm chest. “Thank you, my love, it's beautiful.”

Lips hovered next to Jaskier's ear. “You can wear it while I use your mouth. On your knees.”

Eskel sat on the bed and waited patiently while Jaskier placed a pillow on the floor for his knees, then settled between Eskel's spread thighs. Quick fingers opened his laces and Jaskier licked his lips when he saw the head of Eskel's cock. “Open your mouth.” Jaskier's mouth was already open when Eskel gave the command.

He wasted no time thrusting in deep, hips snapping until Jaskier's eyes watered. But they all knew he loved it. They were so delicate with him most of the time, soft touches, making sure he was ready for them always, but sometimes Jaskier needed to be taken. Eskel's fingers curled through his hair, pulling him down on his cock as he fucked into his mouth, taking what he wanted from Jaskier, taking all Jaskier wanted to give him.

Spit squeezed out the corners of Jaskier's mouth as tears rolled down his cheeks, but Eskel wiped them away with his thumb, a promise to care of him after. “Fuck, your mouth, so sweet...” Eskel grunted again and buried himself deep, pumping his seed down Jaskier's throat.

Jaskier swallowed greedily and went limp as Eskel pulled him to his feet, throwing him back into the bed. His movements were harsh and jerky, but his hands soft as he brushed away the mess from Jaskier's face, the other hand wrapping around his cock. The blue silk fluttered open around him, framing Jaskier's chest and his beautiful prick. Eskel growled as Jaskier came, then licked the spend from his hand. “Good bard,” he mumbled and stood up, tucking himself away.

Jaskier watched him go with hazy eyes. “I love my present,” he whispered before Eskel left. “Thank you.”

A small smile pulled at Eskel's cheek. He stopped at the door and glanced at the bard, laid out on his bed, robe open, cock laying spent in the curve of his hip. “You're welcome. Only the best for you.”

5.

As the last remaining Witcher stronghold, a winter invitation to Kaer Morhen was considered an honor. And anyone trusted enough to winter at their keep, was trusted by their sweet bard, he knew his Wolves would never let him come to harm.

The first year Lambert brought Aiden, he met Jaskier over dinner, snarling as he watched the human snuggle against Geralt and Eskel one minute, then shimmy over to Lambert. But blue eyes merely sparkled at him and he kissed Lambert's cheek before returning to the head of the table and draping over Vesemir. “It's alright, Aiden, we're all friends here. You two should come see me tomorrow.”

The next afternoon, Jaskier's door opened. He peered over his shoulder to watch Lambert physically pushing Aiden in front of him. “You'll like it, I promise.”

“You're fucking with me,” Aiden spat, digging his heels into the floor as Lambert pushed him. “No way a human volunteers to be a cocksleeve for a bunch of Witchers.”

“Well,” Jaskier said, putting his book safely on the bedside table and rolling over, letting his legs fall open, “I wouldn't put it exactly like that, but yes.” Lambert shut the door behind them and pushed Aiden towards the bed. Jaskier caught his eye again, making a slow show of running his hands over the insides of his thighs, advertising his goods, from his cock all the way down to the end of the plug, just barely visible.

Aiden's mouth fell open. “Fuck.”

“See, I told you.” Lambert shot a smug glare over his shoulder before reaching for Jaskier, pulling him from the nest of pillows. Naked as always, he took a moment to run his hands over smooth skin, treated with the finest oils and creams Eskel brought back from his travels. “Mind if I show you off a little, song bird?”

“Please do.” Jaskier wrapped his hands around Lambert's neck and hung on, letting the Witcher paw at him all he liked.

Calloused fingers brushed between his cheeks before lips whispered in his ear, “Plug's comin' out. Let's show him everything.” Jaskier shivered at the slide of the toy, Aiden moaning at the same time. Still holding tight to him, Lambert set the plug aside, then spread Jaskier's cheeks for Aiden to see. He skipped his morning visit and there was no spend to gush out, just the beautiful pink of Jaskier's hole, shiny with slick, waiting for whoever might want him.

Lambert spread him open until Jaskier's breath hitched. “Oh, you're so bad,” he cooed. He stayed perfectly still for Lambert, he wanted Aiden to know he was more than welcome.

“C'mon, he loves it Aiden, I promise.” Lambert dipped the tips of two fingers inside and Jaskier made all the appropriate noises, his hips thrusting back to get more. “Ah, ah.” A quick slap to his rear reminded Jaskier to hold still. Once he got himself under control again, Lambert kissed his neck, squeezing his cheeks. “Turn around.” Jaskier did as he was told and Lambert's hand came to circle the base of his cock, giving it a few teasing pulls. “He has the sweetest cock too, fits in your mouth perfect while you finger him.” He shifted his attention to Jaskier's balls, urging the bard's legs apart so Aiden could see the perfect orbs hanging soft against the inside of his thighs. “Isn't he just so amazing?” Sliding his nose up Jaskier's neck, Lambert breathed him in deep.

“I don't know,” Aiden said. “I get it, he lets you guys do anything, but I'm—”

“A guest.” Jaskier's eyes flicked up to Aiden, dark with lust as Lambert's hand continued gently palming him, stoking the fires of his arousal. “I know how to treat our guests very well.”

Aiden licked his lips. He was almost there... “How about this, let's give him a show,” Lambert said.

His hands disappeared from Jaskier's ass, and he only whined a little. Lambert cocked an eyebrow at him, then sat down on the edge of Jaskier's bed, patting his lap. “Take a seat, Aiden, get comfortable.” Lambert nodded to the chairs by the fire as Jaskier got settled across his lap. He splayed his legs open wide, his cock bent down against the outside of Lambert's thigh, giving Aiden a look at _everything_ he had.

Once again, Lambert spread his cheeks, showing off his still slick hole. “You're a guest,” he purred to the Cat. “You can have his ass first, I'll take his mouth.” Lambert swiped a thumb over Jaskier's bottom lip, pulling away quickly when he tried to grab it and suck. “He loves showing us a good time, and I want us to enjoy him together.”

Aiden, now painfully hard in his too tight breeches, shifted, watching Lambert's fingers dip into Jaskier's hole again and again, the bard cooing and loving every second of it. “Can I—” he said after a long moment, but his voice went dry. He swallowed hard and tried again. “Can I fuck him like that? While you're holding him?”

“Yes, of course,” Jaskier said. He enjoyed being across Lambert's lap, gentle fingers tracing down his spine and over all his other curves.

Lambert moved them away from the edge of the bed and settled Jaskier across his lap again, making sure there was more than enough room for Aiden to take what he wanted. Stripping out of his clothes, Aiden shook his head. “People think Cats are crazy, you fucking Wolves...”

After picking from the vast array of oils, Aiden blanketed himself across Jaskier's back and sunk in. The reaction was instant, he let out a long groan, his hips thrusting forward automatically. “How does he feel this good inside? Uh, fuck...”

With the extra weight of Aiden across his lap as well, Lambert shifted, but he could handle it, Jaskier's Wolves were strong. “Thank you,” he purred, tilting his hips so Aiden could sink in further. “I take it this means you like me?”

Lips pressed between Jaskier's shoulder blades and Aiden began to thrust in earnest, thick Witcher cock filling him up just the way he liked. “Jaskier, sweet song bird... I like you very much indeed.”

Aiden became a frequent guest in Jaskier's room, sometimes with Lambert, sometimes on his own. “Tell me how he likes it,” Aiden whispered against Jaskier's lips, sucking the tender flesh until it was rosy. “How does he kiss you? Show me.” Blunt human teeth nipped at his lips and Aiden growled. Yes, that was his Lambert, snarls and rough nips, with a gooey center that only he and the residents of Kaer Morhen got to see. He never would've guessed Lambert would expose his inner self to a human, but Jaskier was special, Aiden saw that right away.

One afternoon, Jaskier awoke from a nap to find them both filling the beautiful copper tub in his room. Jaskier had the best tub in the keep, large enough for three (or more, if you squeezed) and beautifully polished, delicate scroll work around the feet. All the bedrooms had washbasins, and there was a communal washroom downstairs that Vesemir took great pride in, but Jaskier's tub was perfect. It sat in front of his fire most days, where they could enjoy long, luxurious soaks.

“Perfect timing.” Lambert's eyes sparkled with glee and he held up one of Jaskier's oils, the kind for massaging. Well, he supposed it could be used _in_ his ass as well as _on_ it. He couldn't wait to see what Lambert had planned. “Our bath is ready.”

Jaskier slipped from the sheets and floated into Lambert's waiting arms, nuzzling their noses together before giving Aiden the same greeting. The Cat rubbed his cheek against Jaskier's neck, scenting him the way they all did. Jaskier loved it, loved belonging to the pack, feeling like he was truly theirs.

Lambert skimmed his hand across the top of the water to check the temperature before offering Jaskier a hand in. He settled down and watched the Witchers strip with hungry eyes. “Mmm, and what have I done to deserve this treat?” He couldn't help but lick his lips as two beautifully hard cocks appeared in his line of sight, bobbing as they were freed from their confines. Aiden sunk in first, shuffling behind Jaskier to make room for Lambert. With Aiden behind him and Lambert settled between his legs, Jaskier closed his eyes and leaned back, ready to take whatever they wanted to give him—or to give whatever they needed from him.

Soft kisses trailed up his chest before an even softer cloth brushed over him. Lavender and honey bloomed through the air, Jaskier's favorite soap. The cloth moved all over, cleaning him everywhere: up his neck, under his arms, between his legs. With a little prodding from Aiden, he rolled up onto his knees and braced his hands on the Cat's firm chest, allowing Lambert to pull the plug from him and clean between his legs and inside. Lambert didn't say a word about the gush of come that smelled like Eskel, he merely continued with the soft touches, gently cleaning until Jaskier was as fresh as the moment he woke up.

Placing a kiss on his rim, Lambert smirked at Jaskier's moan. “Feeling relaxed?” he whispered, lips vibrating against the puckered skin of his hole.

“Always. You treat me right,” he purred.

“Good. We have a special treat for you.”

They soaked for a few more minutes, exchanging languid kisses and touches, Lambert and Aiden's hands both stroking Jaskier's cock under the water from time to time, not enough to start him towards climax, just enough to tease. The massage oil sat on the small table next to the bath and Jaskier had his eye on it. The chamomile, which was lovely and soothing, but had other uses as well...

“Uh, I can't take it anymore,” Jaskier whispered. They pulled him out of the bath and dried him reverently with a fluffy towel, Lambert fell to his knees to make sure he didn't miss a single drop. He ran his fingers through soft, damp hair as Aiden stood behind him, hands roving absolutely everywhere.

Once Jaskier was laid out on the bed, Lambert went for the massage oil, pouring a generous dollop into his hand. Relaxing onto the bed beside Jaskier, Aiden watched strong hands work at loose muscles warm from the bath. It was difficult to contain the noises that dripped from his lips, and Jaskier didn't even try to keep from rutting against the sheets. Lambert's hands were amazing, they sought out what little tension he had and utterly obliterated it, leaving him a cooing puddle on the bed.

“You're too good to me,” he moaned. When Lambert's fingers dipped between his legs, starting on his thighs and tough gluteal muscles, Jaskier spread his legs as wide as they would go.

A chuckle dark like sin and as smooth as silk rumbled from Aiden, another hand rubbing down his oiled back. “Do you think he's ready?”

Lambert's fingers slid to his cleft, probing at his hole, two fingers sliding in easily. Jaskier moaned, humping into the bed even more. “Fuck, Lambert...”

“Oh yeah, he's ready. Tell me, song bird, how do you feel about both of us?”

“Uh...” It took a moment to gather his thoughts. They floated away the moment Lambert's fingers sunk in to him—quite rude of them—but Jaskier managed to nod. “Yes, that's fine. I figured as much. Who wants my mouth first?”

Another dark chuckle. “No, sweet bard, _both_ of us.” Two more fingers teased at his hole, sliding in next to Lambert's, Aiden lost his composure for a second. “Fuck, you really are so open...”

Meanwhile, Jaskier was having difficulty breathing. Geralt and Eskel liked to share him in that way sometimes—though not nearly often enough—and holding two cocks inside himself was Jaskier's very favorite thing. He didn't ask for it often, he didn't want to be greedy, what with all the other things his Wolves, and now Aiden, already gave him. “Yes,” he breathed. “That would be lovely, _please_.”

Lambert spent a few more torturous moments massaging Jaskier's tension away, “Gotta make sure you're good and relaxed,” he teased. When he finally put the oil aside and retrieved a different bottle, Jaskier was vibrating with the need to have someone, _two_ someones, inside him right at that very moment. He bit down on his lip to prevent any whining and let Lambert arrange him across Aiden's chest.

Gentle fingers carded through his hair, lips brushing his. There was a soft _squelch_ of oil behind him and two probing fingers. “Fuck, you're gorgeous,” Aiden purred, his eyes locked with Jaskier's. “I never thought anyone could love Lambert as much as I did, then I came here. Fuck, this place, it reeks of sex and love and I can't get enough of it.” Unable to hold himself back, Aiden pulled him into a rough kiss, smashing their lips together before letting his tongue press between Jaskier's lips, tasting him.

“Aiden, hold still,” Lambert instructed. A hand brushed between Jaskier's cheeks, taking Aiden in hand and lining him up with Jaskier's very slick, very relaxed hole. It wasn't his first cock of the day, but Jaskier reacted to each one like it was brand new. And the Wolves appreciated it, rubbing their noses through his hair, kissing and licking. Aiden was mostly the same, but there was an extra sweetness to it, he didn't want to damage Jaskier even though he saw that the bard liked a bit of rough from time to time. He followed Lambert's lead, eyes wide as he watched Jaskier fulfill every fantasy he never dared to have.

The hot cock slipped into Jaskier like a knife through butter and he couldn't help the moan that fell from his lips. “Aiden, you're so hot, I love it.” All of them warm from the bath on top of natural Witcher heat, and the cozy atmosphere of Jaskier's room, the air itself was like being swaddled in blankets, held safe and loved.

Aiden rolled his hips a few times, feeling Jaskier when he had him all to himself. But soon enough, Lambert's fingers slipped in next to his cock and he had to hold still again. Wrapping his hand around the back of Jaskier's neck, he guided his head to his shoulder. “Relax, we've got you.”

The fat head of a cock slid next to the one already there and Jaskier moaned somehow louder. His limbs were completely boneless, melting on top of Aiden as Lambert started thrusting slowly, the stretch inside of him more than usual, so much more, and so very good. The bath, the massage, they chased all of Jaskier's tension away and he could do nothing but let Lambert fuck him, Aiden's arms holding strong.

Lips brushed between his shoulder blades. “Still so tight for us,” Lambert growled. “I love you, Jaskier, we all love you. What you give us, fuck, you give us everything you have...”

Words turned to grunts and groans. Lambert and Aiden exchanged a few kisses over Jaskier's shoulder pressing him between them like a flower in the pages of a book. When he came, it was incandescent, every nerve in his body singing. Jaskier barely felt Aiden shaking under him as he came too, barely felt the teeth sinking into his shoulder when crying out in pleasure wasn't enough. He did feel Lambert start to pull out and whined at the loss.

“Shush, shush.” He gentled Jaskier as he pulled him off Aiden's cock, laying him down on the bed. “I'm still here. We're both here.”

Though Jaskier woke only a few hours ago, he was suddenly exhausted, all his energy sapped out of him. Lambert replaced the plug before the all settled down for a nap, snorting at the suddenly looser fit. Jaskier settled between two of his Witchers and went to sleep, the stretch in his ass pleasantly sore.

6.

Geralt came to Jaskier at night, usually after dinner. He liked to kiss and cuddle in the dark, only the light of the fire illuminating pale skin and hair like moonbeams. He kissed across Jaskier's eyelids as he sunk in. “You're beautiful,” he whispered. Though, some nights he bit at Jaskier's throat as he pushed in, growling, “Who's a good boy?”

There were other nights—like tonight—where something weighed heavy on the White Wolf. Geralt sat down on the bed and looked up, asking with his eyes. Jaskier smiled, brushing his hand down a stubbled cheek. “Let me take care of you.”

Massage oil was easy to hand. Jaskier took time stripping Geralt, fingers lingering on muscles sore from morning training and daily chores, scars that didn't like the cold, and new nicks and cuts that would heal by morning, but still deserved his attention. Once Geralt was bare and spread out on his bed, Jaskier got to work, massaging soothing chamomile into his skin and pressing fingers deep into his back. He wasn't as strong as a Witcher, could never hope to be as good at rubbing the tension away, but Geralt started to relax all the same, shifting his hips after a few minutes to adjust his now hard cock against the sheets.

Fingers strong from playing the beautiful Elven lute Geralt brought him years ago pressed into thick muscles, pushing out, pushing the blood away from the heart so it might carry the tension with it. A few stubborn knots brought out small snarls of pain before melting into satisfied grunts, but Jaskier knew he had to hurt to help sometimes, just a little.

By the time he rolled Geralt over and started on his front, rubbing rippling pectorals and strong thighs, his cock was already leaking, the shaft bobbing with his deep, slow heart beat, leaving a trail of precome in the hair low on Geralt's belly. “Jaskier...”

“Don't worry, I know what you need.”

He finished the massage and turned Geralt over again, applying more oil between his cheeks. Quick brushes of fingers first, then deeper probing as two, then three of Jaskier's long fingers pushed in. Soon enough, Geralt's hips were rutting against the bed. “Jaskier,” he groaned.

He rolled over again, leaning into Jaskier's arms as he arranged them. With Geralt's thick legs resting on his hips, Jaskier took himself in hand and lined up the head of his cock with Geralt's hole. He looked up at the last second, watching the bliss flicker across Geralt's face as he entered was the finest sight on the whole Continent, if you asked Jaskier.

Once he was seated and sure Geralt was comfortable, Jaskier bracketed his arms around Geralt's head, leaning forward until their noses were almost touching. Sparkling golden eyes looked into his as two large hands fell to his waist, urging him without guiding. Geralt didn't want to drive them tonight, he wanted to be driven, and Jaskier was only too happy to do so.

“I love you,” he whispered. “You mean more to me than anything. Any morning I wake up in your arms is a day I cherish. I still can't believe you're mine.” A blush stole across Geralt's cheeks and he tried to duck his chin, but Jaskier wouldn't let him. Pressing kisses up his neck, he continued. “Yes, you're mine, all of you, but Geralt, you're special. The way you trust me, let me take you like this, uh, it's a heady feeling.” His hips snapped and one hand fluttered down to stroke Geralt's cock. More sticky precome gushed over his fingers and Jaskier licked his lips. How he wanted to taste, pull out and swallow Geralt down... but that wasn't what Geralt needed right now.

“I love you,” he said again. “I'd let you use me, bite me, spank me, but no, you want to love me. I offer you the world and all you ask for is my heart. Do you know how beautiful that is? How beautiful _you_ are?”

Geralt gasped, legs tightening around Jaskier. It wasn't like when Lambert called him _pretty boy_ , or when Eskel compared their scars, when Jaskier spoke of Geralt's beauty, he spoke from his heart. The bard in him wouldn't let him speak from anywhere else. “This spring, I should travel with you,” he continued. His eyes devoured Geralt's face as his hands roved over his body, they were all sculpted like gods and Jaskier loved nothing more than to rub over firm muscles and knotted scars with equal reverence. “I went out with Eskel last year, no reason Vesemir wouldn't let me set out with you for a season. Unless you want to be alone?”

“No!” Geralt gasped and held tighter, fingers almost holding Jaskier hard enough to bruise. “I want you with me, if you'll come. Yes, please yes.”

Jaskier enjoyed The Path. He longed to see his Wolves all year, and the few times they brought him along were their own sort of adventure. He missed his lovely room, all his soft blankets and the silky garments Eskel liked to bring him, but wandering the wild world fed a part of his soul. Wandering at the side of a Witcher mad it all the sweeter.

“Yes.” He peppered kisses up Geralt's throat, the cock in his hand starting to twitch. “We'll go this year, sleep together under the stars, keep each other warm... it'll be amazing. I'll love you in the morning and in the evening, until you're sick of me.”

“I'll never be sick of you.” Geralt's inner walls fluttered, his orgasm starting to crest. “Fuck, Jaskier I love you too.” And with love on his lips, Geralt came, pulling Jaskier over with him.

They lay in a sticky, spent pile on the bed, not quite ready to get up. Jaskier did rise a few moments later and grabbed a cloth to clean them, then collapsed into the bed. Geralt curled around him and they both drifted off. Jaskier fell asleep with a smile on his lips, knowing when he woke, it would all start again. Lambert climbing between his legs, Vesemir's kisses and morsels of food, Eskel's cock in his mouth, and finally Geralt warm in his arms as they slept.

It really wasn't a bad life, not at all.


End file.
